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It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well. Sheppard superior to her station. And then she could see nothing at all for his lips founds hers.
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